82 ing out her chair with a flourish, pay- ing for dinner, asking permission to hold her hand. Jill was working at the time at the T & A club, in Upland, CalifornIa, contemplating her next move. The first night back, Cal invited her to his house and talked about how he should be her guide into the business instead of Tyffany, how much he could "help" her. She said she'd think about it. A week or so later, she became seriously ill with a viral infection. Cal came charging to the rescue, ferrying her to doc- tors and paying the doctors' bills. A month later, on Val- entine,s Day, they were mar- ried, in the Little Brown Church in Canyon Coun- try. The preacher, whom neither of them knew, called Cal "Larry" throughout the ceremony. A couple of weeks after the marriage, Cal announced that he didn't want her to go into the business after all. " 'I love you too much-I don't want you with those guys,' " she recalled his telling her. "I said O.K. 'Oh, he must really love me.'" Jill recalled that Cal wanted very much to be "the provider." "He wanted to work at a legitimate studio, like CBS, and get in the union and get benefits," she said. "He wanted to have a normal job. And he wanted me to stay at home and have kids and go to church on Sundays." But even if Jill wanted to stay home, which she didn't, the woman's wages still paid most of CalJammer's bills. From her dancing income, Jill bought the groceries and paid the utilities, the insurance, and half his mortgage. After he died, she discovered that he was five months behind in the mortgage payments; the bank was about to foreclose. Cal's porn career was being plagued again with the old "wood problems"; at home, he could talk of nothing else. "Cal felt like he wasn't a man" because he couldn't perform, Jill said. "He dwelled on it too much. He cared about it too much." And after a while he looked for other people to blame. "He'd come home every day pissed off because So-and-So wouldn't hire him, pissed off because 'this bitch' wouldn't work with him, pissed off be- cause she wanted him to wear a rubber," Jill said. "He was so unhappy" Jill found out Cal had been cheating on her, she said. She left him, but then they reconciled. Cal suggested they both get into the business, then changed his mind and told Jill he was going to leave the business "for her." Jill told him, "Don't quit it for me, qUIt it for yourself." She could see how such an unasked-for "sac- rifice" might be thrown back in her face later. Once out of the business, however, Cal fell into a deeper gloom; weeks went by when all he would do was play video games and drive around aimles.sly in his truck. To make up for the lost income, Jill started dancing double shifts seven days a week at Venus Faire. Cal took the occasional odd job building sets, repairing friends' houses damaged in the 1994 earthquake. "He got really depressed," she said His criticisms of her turned ugly. On a Colorado rafting trip with friends, in the summer of 1994, he suddenly began screaming at her, calling her "a fucking bitch." On the drive home, he continued to yell and, after she kicked the dash of his truck, snapping one of the plastic air vents, he grabbed her and "started socking me." She fought back, but the next day she was the one with the bruises. A month after the rafting trip, they went camping on the coast and he lit into her, saying how he hated her and how he had got out of the business for her and now his career was ruined. She finally said, "Fine, then I'll leave. " In September, 1994, she moved out. "I told him I was going into the business, and I was going on where I left off with my life." He told her, Jill recalled, that "this was his busi- ness, that I had no right invading his busi- ness, that I had my dancing to fall back on." She asked him, "Are you going to "'" support mer' The day she moved out, Cal had lined up a scene. ^T the 1995 Adult Vìdeo News Awards, .L\. Tyffany Million was sitting at a table close to the stage, booing the repeat winner Three times she booed him-as his movie was announced as Best-Renting Tape of the Year, Best-Selling Tape of the Year, and Best Overall Marketing Campaign. When he walked by on his way to collect one of the trophies, she hissed and said, "Pig! Pig!" When he stepped up to the mike, she yelled, "Only in America can a wife batterer become a star!" If John Wayne Bobbitt heard any of Million's heckling, he showed no notIce. THE NEW YORKER, OCTOBER 30,1995 He had his own words to speak onstage. "1' d like to end this all with a quote from a friend of mine," he said, paraphrasing a line from his inspirational bard (whom he had met only once), Andrew Dice Clay. "Lorena, here's to you--sucking my dick." The video, 'John Wayne Bobbitt Un- cut," had begun as an idle suggestion from Ron Jeremy, who had met Bobbitt at a Playboy party at the Wet'n Wild theme park. At the time, Jeremy was directing a series of "girl-girl" videos and wondered if Bobbitt wanted to appear in one called "Nightmare on Lesbian Street." No sex, just a cameo appearance. That evening, Bobbitt's manager, Aaron Gordon, spoke to Jeremy. Yes, Bobbitt wanted to be in a porn :film, but he wanted to be the star. The ex-marine-who said his plans for reënlistment had been foiled by defense cuts-wanted to tell the story of his "re- covery" from what he liked to call "my battle wound " He wanted to show that, as he would put it later in his introductory narration to the :film, "I was working." His recoverywas ill fact not exactly docu- mented by the subsequent footage. But that was of little concern. People wanted to gaze upon his recapitated dick; its abili- ties were secondary. If it didn't work, all the better. In many respects, Bobbitt is the cartoon illustration of all the conflict between "being" and "doing" that male porn actors face. He had wanted to star in the ultimate male act1on:film, but the pub- lic was more interested in a passive corpse. Understanding this, Leisure Time, the production company for the Bobbitt :film, concentrated on controlling rights to the still shots of Bobbitt's penis. The camera- man, Jane Waters (who, despite the fe- male professional name, is male), recalled, "It was all 'Now, it's your job the minute it comes out, whether it's hard or not, worn in and stay on it till it's covered!' It was like this major world event." Waters had plenty of time, because on the set Bobbitt could barely get it up, much less keep it there. Days of waiting and cajoling and hectoring passed, with- out results. Finally, the chauffeur of Lei- sure Time's president arrived one morn- ing with an Igloo cooler. Inside was a syringe full of prostaglandin, a fatty acid that induces an erection when shot into the base of the penis. Bobbitt was, under- standably, reluctant, but finally he fol- lowed the chauffeur back to the bathroom and the shot was administered After twelve days, Bobbitt had received about